


when there she lies

by JenLi



Series: Selection OC 6 [5]
Category: Selection OC
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:55:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24932611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenLi/pseuds/JenLi
Summary: The day after the date.
Series: Selection OC 6 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1742209
Kudos: 1





	when there she lies

**Author's Note:**

> Haha did not mean for this to end up 10k, but everything is fine.
> 
> Takes place the day after her date with Arin.
> 
> RPs from Arin and Wylan.
> 
> A note: I'm going to put a slight trigger warning for those who need it at the end. If you would like to see it, please click "More Notes" right underneath this, and the page will bring you there.

Jen was almost disappointed by the lack of prince in her room the next morning, but at least she was able to actually sleep an extra thirty minutes before her maids demanded she be out of bed. Instead, she was met with a note handed to her by June, still sealed in its envelope. She hadn’t peeked then. That was nice to know.

_ Darling, _

_ I’m sorry but I have to postpone our wedding. I spoke to Kevin and he said he isn’t up for spending for hours in the car with us. How does next Tuesday work? I only have a meeting with the Crown Princess of New Asia—but she can be bumped. _

_ —Arin _

She found herself smiling down at the note, a little too endeared at the idea of bumping the princess of New Asian for a fake wedding. For the first time in ages, she actually got out of bed fully awake and jotted down her reply.

_ My Dearest Arin, _

_ I am saddened by the news of our wedding postponement, but I suppose I can respect Kevin's wishes on the matter. After all, he is a valuable member of the palace family. _

_ Next Tuesday will work perfectly for me. I look forward to seeing you. _

_ —Jen _

_ P.S. I hope you know I should be the only New Asian princess on your list of priorities. _

*

The next reply was brought to her after breakfast.

_ Dear, _

_ Thank you for being so understanding. I hope you know I can’t wait until Tuesday. What can I do to make it up to you until then? _

_ —Arin _

She didn’t hesitate with her request.

_ Sweet Treasured One, _

_ Send snacks. _

_ —Jen _

_ P.S. Among other things. _

*

His next reply came taped to a bag of Cheetos, and she’d nearly stumbled over herself trying to open them.

_ Sweetheart, _

_ I hope these Cheetos find you well. _

_ P.S. Other things? _

_ —Arin _

“Is that from the prince?” Galilee asked from next to her. “Is that why you’re smiling?”

“Lee!” June hissed as she made up the bed. “You know we’re not supposed to—”

The poor things had such little to look forward to that she couldn’t even blame them for wanting the gossip. “Yes, it is.”

_ Most Beloved, _

_ They have found me wonderfully. I am indebted to your thoughtful gesture. _

_ —Jen _

_ P.S. Other things, indeed. _

*

_ Cherished bride to be, _

_ I confess that I am at a loss for words. I suggest we rectify this situation by doing the other things on your list. _

_ —Arin _

*

_ Ever Adored Fiancé, _

_ I also must confess writing of my other things is likely improper in this form. Even writing to you now is somewhat of a risk. So many foils we must overcome. _

_ —Jen _

*

“Another note for you, Lady Jen,” June told her, setting the note on the nightstand next to her.

She reached for it instantly but opened it with care.

_ My lovely Jen, _

_ I admit I almost could not contain the fire in my soul at your last words. I have spoken to Kevin of our predicament. He told me that if we go on Wednesday we will be able to receive a most generous discount on our service conducted by Elvis. _

_ I hope you don’t find my words imprudent. _

_ —Arin _

Imprudent. She could show him imprudent if that was what he wanted.

_ My Darling Arin, _

_ I'm so grateful dear Kevin is so supportive of our match. I wasn't so sure he would, but it means a great deal that we at least have him on our side.  _

_ I must admit, I feel as if we shouldn't rush things. A week's engagement should be a respectable amount of time, should it not? _

_ Your words will never be imprudent. I hold them close to my heart. _

_ —Jen _

_ P.S. I didn't peg you for a cheapskate. _

*

_ Precious Jen, _

_ I must admit this all feels as though it were out of a novel. You my Elizabeth and I your Darcy. Or perhaps you are Jane, sweet and adoring. I so look forward to spending our lives together and when I think of our adventures to come I must admit that even I am not immune to the butterflies. _

_ —Arin _

*

_ My Perplexing and Lovely Fiancé, _

_ I find that I quite agree with your assessment. I've read many novels, and this does, indeed, feel like one. After all, you are a prince, and I am but a poor common girl. You speak of wanting to spend your life with me, though, and I still know little about you. _

_ Thus, I must implore you to tell me a secret. _

_ I await your response with bated breath and a beating heart. _

_ —Jen _

*

_ Sweetest honeybee, _

_ I must confess that I am a man of few secrets. But even now as I put my pen to paper I tremble at the thought that you may never look at me the same way again. I implore you to think of our passionate romance, for I am ashamed to say that when I was 15 one of the Spanish Infantas kissed me. To this day it remains my deepest shame and I beg you to forgive me. _

_ —Arin _

“What’s he saying?” Galilee asked, her voice whispering despite them being in the room alone. “You look happy.”

She hadn’t realized, but Galilee was correct in her assessment. “Happy” may have been a strong word to use, but it was the closest emotion she could describe it as. It had been a while since she felt much of anything. “He’s… We’re just talking.”

_ Dearest Man of My Heart, _

_ I must say I am shocked by this confession, but my opinion of you hasn't changed in the slightest. I must only say that I appreciate your honesty. _

_ I must also confess I am also not of pure heart. I hope this does not change your opinion of me, but I feel it necessary to disclose this since we are now exchanging secrets _

_ Might I also mention I might be jealous of this Infanta you speak of? Though writing this now makes my heart flutter in my chest. I must send this note before I ponder the thought a great deal. _

_ —Jen _

*

_ Beloved Bombus, _

_ Do not be jealous. I promise she meant nothing to me. Please remember that this coming Wednesday we will be wed in a small chapel by an Elvis impersonator—something I would share with no other. The butterflies are for you alone therefore you can be assured the past is in the past. _

_ —Arin _

She wasn’t sure why she liked that idea.

*

_ Dearest Dreamsicle, _

_ I take your words and cherish them. You truly are an angel sent from the heavens, and I find myself blessed by your company, though we are apart. Time stretches on now that I haven't seen you. I can now only count the days until we are wed. _

_ At least I have these notes. I will think only of them and you as I try to rest. _

_ —Jen _

*

_ Astonishing Apis, _

_ With every love letter my feelings for you only flourish more. I too count down the days until I am able to call you my bride. But please end my suffering. Too long we have been apart. I long to look up into your eyes once more as I aid you with your atrocious shoe choices. _

_ —Arin _

Atrocious shoe choices. She couldn’t recall them feeling atrocious the whole time they were on her feet. If he wanted to play that game, then she could play it better.

_ Darling Dreamboat, _

_ This makes me blush to confess, but next time we meet, I'll pick footwear solely for you to take off, even though I'd rather be wearing none at all. I hope this thought gives you something to look forward to. I long for your fingers against my ankles again, though no one aside from you must ever know. I would be shamed. _

_ —Jen _

*

_ Jen, _

_ I’m at a loss for words right now. That was unexpected to say the least. _

_ —Arin _

She got him.

*

_ Arin, _

_ Does that mean you don't want to aid my poor taste in shoes? Full disclosure, blame my maids. I'm content with my height. _

_ —Jen _

*

_ Jen, _

_ I’m not the best with the little straps on high heels so if you prefer other shoes that’s fine with me. But who knows with you. Maybe this is you just trying to get me on my knees again. In which case, I’m not falling for it. _

_ —Arin _

Perhaps he was overestimating her fondness of him. Perhaps he was correct. It was a mystery of the ages.

She sent up a prayer that no one opened the next note for their own sakes as well as both her and Arin’s.

_ Arin, _

_ That's alright with me. Maybe next time I'll get on my knees for you. _

_ —Jen _

*

_ Jen, _

_ Good. I’m really tall and sometimes it’s hard to bend all the way down to time my shoelaces. _

_ —Arin _

“Jen, you’re giggling.”

“I am most definitely  _ not _ giggling.”

*

_ Arin, _

_ I'd be very happy to help you out. If this whole lawyer thing doesn't work out, perhaps you can commission me as the royal shoe tier instead. _

_ —Jen _

*

_ Jen, _

_ Why would I hire my wife to do a job? I hope you know this position is unpaid. _

_ —Arin _

“Asshole,” she muttered under her breath.

June looked up from where she was picking out shoes for dinner that she just about needed to get ready for. “What was that?”

“Nothing.”

_ Arin, _

_ Ah, yes, I'm sure being your wife will be a full-time job already with you being so needy. I suppose I'll have to get used to it. As long as you feed me, my position can remain unpaid. _

_ —Jen _

*

Jen didn’t wait for his next reply after dinner before getting on more comfortable clothes to head to the library. She’d gone through all of her books she’d gotten since her last visit, so it was time to restock. The library was usually fully-staffed, but with it being the hour it was, not a soul was occupying the place when she walked in and placed her books on the return shelf. With free arms available, she ventured in the stacks of books.

The first book she picked up was  _ Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire _ because she’d just finished its successor. The next books were just meant to be fillers in case she got bored, but picking up  _ Twilight _ was a complete nostalgic throwback that she decided she had to relieve eventually. She knew realistically two books of those lengths were plenty to keep her busy for a couple of days, but she hadn’t had time to read for pleasure in so long that she almost started to miss the textbooks and political memoirs that she read during the school year.

The moment she stepped foot in that section, though, she knew it was a mistake because that aisle practically screamed at her to come back. She’d returned Ian’s books weeks ago, but every time she passed down this aisle, the same thoughts dug themselves back into her.  _ It’s just a book. It’s not him. You just miss his ideas. _

And she knew it wasn’t true. She knew it wasn’t healthy. But she went anyway.

_ Systems of Necessary Authority & Power _ always seemed to crawl it way back into her grasps, luring her in like some kind of siren sent to sink her ship. In a way, it did help with that constant voice in her head telling her to go back, but it didn’t help to forget.

She was 15 when this book had been published. He’d given her his first signed copy instead of his wife or any other person who deserved it more. She’d spent countless nights at age 16 brushing her fingers over that signature. 

There was a pen tucked behind her ear, discarded from a table, and it would be so easy to just—She stroked her pen over the title page without really thinking about it, leaving a mark so familiar it left her chest aching. His signature, but not his. Another brand in this place, her sanctuary. She let him come back again.

“I have to say this isn't the aisle I meant, but hello.”

She nearly jumped out of her skin at the voice, dropping her pen in her lap and subsequently losing her place in the book. That couldn’t matter much, though, since Arin Schreave didn’t exactly need to see her forging signatures of authors in his own library. He peered down at her, still dressed from dinner, seemingly amused by her position on the floor. “Jesus, give a girl a warning next time.”

He took a few steps closer. “I don't know how I would have done that, but for next time sure I guess.”

His eyes went to her book, and she pressed her thumb into a random page in the book and pulled it closer to herself. “Can I help you?” She gave him a smirk. “Future husband.”

He scoffed as he closed more distance between them, eyes roaming the shelves rather than her. Some part of her hated it. “Yes, darling Bombus, if you wouldn't mind moving so I can get the book I came for.” 

He motioned to the shelf behind her head, and she immediately felt her stomach drop even though it shouldn’t have. There were plenty of authors on this shelf. It didn’t have to be him. She prayed it wasn’t him. “Doing some light reading?” she asked as she scooted to the side just enough for him to stand next to her.

She underestimated how closer he would be though. “Light?” he asked, glancing down at her. “Shouldn’t you know what I like to read,  _ darling? _ ”

She looked up at him, craning her neck to see his face, but his eyes were no longer on hers, too focused on scanning the titles in front of him. “Of course, I forgot you like to read smutty romance novels. My apologies.”

He chuckled. “Yes, because there's nothing like a good book by Mondeli to really get you going.”

_ Oh God. _

She felt her smile drop at the mere mention of his name. A brief thought passed through her head that maybe it was a different Mondeli, but she’d to this shelf so many times that she knew there wasn’t.  _ Her whole world, ruined. _ “You… know him?”

He didn’t seem to have noticed her shift in attitude. She was thankful for that at least. “Yeah, I do. I've been meaning to reread  _ Systems of Necessary Authority & Power. _ Have you read it?”

_ Oh God.  _ She was going to be sick, actually sick. She could feel her stomach churning inside her. “Yeah.” She shifted in place and clutched the book harder. She didn’t need it, but she still didn’t want him to have it. Keep it out of his grasps, no matter how much she loved the book. Still, he’d already read it, after all. Perhaps there was no use in keeping it away anymore. “A few times.” She lifted the book up to him, hoping her voice sounded normal. “Cease your search.”

When his eyes met hers, he smiled the tiniest bit. “I’m glad to see he’s touched others.” She froze in place as he took the book from her hands. Her eyes returned to the bookshelf ahead of her. “He’s an impressive man.”

_ His hand squeezing her thigh during office hours, the first time. Her essay on the desk with his red-inked notes. 67. “Don’t disappoint me.” _

“Yes, he is.” And she was pretty sure she said more, except nothing felt correct on her tongue anymore. Nothing felt real. Even Arin’s voice in her head didn’t form coherent sentences, her name on his lips the only thing that brought her back. “Sorry, what did you say?”

Her voice didn’t sound like her own. Something just wasn’t there.

“Are you okay?” he asked her, still standing next to her.

_ “It’s okay, Jennie.” _

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just…” She couldn’t look up. She couldn’t do anything but clutch the fabric of her sweatshirt. Her Yale sweatshirt. The one he’d touched the night before she came here. She needed it off. “I used to know him. Brought back memories.” A tightly-sealed can of memories

Arin crouched down beside her. She hadn’t expected that. “What’s wrong?”

_ He pulls her chair closer. _

She forced herself to smile. “Nothing. Sorry.”  _ It’s okay. _ “It's just been a while since we've talked. He's a family friend.”

_ Versace. $58.91. _

“What’s wrong?” More demanding. He wanted answers.

_ The words he whispers just before he kisses her the second time. _

“Nothing is wrong, Arin.”

_ Unless maybe— _

“And that’s why you can’t look at me?”

_ “No one has to know.” _

“Don’t you have something better to do?” She didn’t look at him as she snapped, terrified her eyes would give her away, but she could see him retract out of her periphery. She wished he didn’t.

He stood upright. “I guess I do. I’ll leave you be.” 

_ Please don’t, _ she wanted to say, but her words caught in her throat. She still couldn’t meet his gaze. “You don't have to worry about me.”

_ His couch. Holding her while she cries. He says he loves her. _

“Enjoy the book, I guess.”

_ Don’t leave. _ She almost begged it.

She could find it in her will to look at him, then the book he’d sat on the shelf, perfectly straight, and then back to him. She hadn’t meant to disappoint him. But that was all she could do anyway. “You should take it. If you need it.”  _ Don’t leave. _

“I’ll survive.” He shook his head before shoving his hands into his pockets. “I’ll see you Wednesday.”

Wednesday. Their fake wedding. He’d remembered. She hadn’t thought he would. “I saved the date.”

Right on the calendar hung up on her wall. That was the only thing it had on it.

The smile he gave her was small, but at least it was there. Some form of comfort. “Good. I’ll see you then.” He turned away from her and walked back the way he came. She wanted to say something.

_ Nothing came out. _

When he was out of sight, she looked to the book he’d sat on the shelf next to her, perfectly straight with the edges. She slid it back into place with the others, but this time at the front so that he could get it easier next time if he wanted to. 

She prayed he wouldn’t.

*

In her room, she threw her sweatshirt into the laundry basket without looking at it again. Ian had bought it for her the day she got her acceptance letter. She was surprised she’d only just now realized the significance. Everything she had, every piece of her seemed to be mingled with him in one way or another. She wasn’t sure what she would do when she got back to Waverly, him having left traces of himself everywhere. She could burn down her apartment, and he would still be waiting in the parking lot. She could transfer schools, and he would be in every single office she stepped foot in. 

Even here, she saw him. She saw him in people and places and the stupidest little things that he had no right to be associated with.

She looked down at her sweatshirt sitting limply in the basket.

Ian had ruined everything she loved. Yale, the one thing that kept her sane was now marred by the very idea of him. Now she had nothing.

Next to her, Angeles University’s mascot stared back at her, irritating but innocent on Wylan’s hoodie that hung on a rack. Not her favorite school by any means, but the only memory of it brought back was momentary pain. A lesser evil. She slipped the hoodie over her head.

She wasn’t sure how long it took her to venture outside, but it was much later than when Arin had found her in the library. Something about tonight was suffocating, like the only way to breathe was to get out.

And she could have left, demanded to be eliminated and gone out into the world and subsequently fuck up her credit score by no bounds, but this was the only place in the world that she knew not even Ian could invade himself. She needed to stay far away in a place he couldn’t reach her, and if that meant in a palace, then she would stay for however long they would keep her.

While she was here, though, she could at least enjoy it, and it wasn’t exactly hard to. It may not have been her first choice of getaways, but no one could deny the luxury of a room constantly in perfect order or food always set out in front of her or a library she could go to any time of day without question. A bit wasteful? Probably, but she had no control of the budget spent around this place, and being a free-rider wasn’t her problem.

The place did reek of exorbitant wealth, though, which definitely left a bad taste in her mouth after what she’d experienced back in Waverly. Even the gardens were trimmed to perfection, every piece of grass the same length and every branch expertly crafted, and she wouldn’t deny it was beautiful, but she also would say it was unnecessary. She didn’t care how much the royal family loved plants. Too much was too much.

At least Angeles was nice, though, perfectly warm enough in the nighttime that being in a hoodie felt like a warm hug. And the garden was acceptable enough to make roaming around in the dark a decently numbing pastime that didn’t leave her wanting for much that it couldn’t otherwise provide. 

One of things it provided best, though, was isolation. It was hard to run into someone you weren’t expecting, except, of course, Jen’s luck was walking around a large bush and being met with a flashlight several meters ahead of her. She squinted through the darkness to see who the intruder of the night was, and she was surprised to find it to be none other than her hoodie-leaving late-night comrade. “The hell are you doing out here?”

Jen could tell he startled even in the dark, and he looked over to squint as she walked closer. When she was close enough, he let the flashlight on his phone drop to his side when he seemed to realize who she was. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

She scoffed as she squinted while continuing her pursuit forward, her eyes adjusting to the light again. “What does it look like?”  _ I’m judging the budgeting committee. _ “You look a lot more suspicious.”

She could see his eyes shift from her eyes to what she was wearing, and for anyone else it would’ve felt demeaning, but this was Wylan, and, technically, she  _ was _ wearing his hoodie. He didn’t comment on it, though, only gave her a smirk. “The suspicious possibilities for what I’m doing really are endless.”

“You sound very much like you're doing something illegal.” She shrugged. “Which isn't my business. I won't vouch for your good behavior in court though.”

“That’s alright. I’ll find some other young woman to help me out.”  _ Bitch. _ His eyes went back to her hoodie, and this time she looked down to it as well. “Have you decided to keep one of my favorite hoodies then?”

Oh, yeah. It's mine now. Even if it is from  _ Angeles University. _ ” She couldn’t keep the disdain from her voice when she said the school.  _ Too many memories. _

She watched him slowly raise an eyebrow. “My university offends you and you still want to keep that?”

“I'm holding it hostage so that you can't wear it.” And it also might’ve been because she needed something to sleep in now that her Yale sweatshirt was out of commission, but she wasn’t going to tell him that.

“And why do you dislike my school anyhow?”

She should’ve known this question was coming, but, God, she hadn’t told this story much since it happened. Still, Wylan had some kind of effect that just made her want to tell the truth somehow when it was something she hated the most. “It broke my nose.”

The bluntness of the statement made him gape at her. “Who /broke your nose?/ Was it on purpose?”

She almost laughed because he sounded offended on her behalf. “I played college volleyball, and last year we played Angeles University in the national championship. Spiked ball to the face, lost the game, very bloody, not fun.” She couldn’t even remember the city they played in, but she did remember her coach pressing towels up against her face to get the bleeding to stop afterward. She was certain there were videos of it somewhere on Yalltube if one looked hard enough for it.

“Couldn’t even get the player back?”

She remembered the player laughing afterward, though that could definitely have been made up in her mind. “Nope, she walks free.” She shrugged, though she could say she still wasn’t over it. Her one goal Senior Year aside from graduating not only completely ruining her national champions title but also her nose. “Got a nose job out of it though.”

His gaze, of course, went to her nose, but she didn’t miss the little smile he gave. “It’s a good nose.” He reached out to tug on the strings of her hoodie. “Is this a form of revenge then?”

“I guess so. I’ll keep it as a momento.”  _ Of you and of this place when I leave. _

“I might fight you for it soon. Depends on my mood.”

“You want it now?” She gave him a smirk as she reached down to the hem and lifted it just the slightest bit. “I mean, I'm not wearing anything under, but I'm sure we could figure something out.”

His eyes widened, and his hands covered hers in an instant as an attempt to keep her clothes on. “Jen!”

“I was joking, damn,” she said as she laughed. She forgot how good it felt to feel that. “If I wanted you to see me naked, I wouldn't do it in the palace garden. I'm really questioning your opinion on me.”  _ You’re a strong person, that much is obvious to anyone. _ She wouldn’t forget the words he’d said.

When he let go, he gave a nervous chuckle. “Sorry. Caught me off guard.” He bent down to grab his phone off the ground that he’d apparently dropped in his rush to keep her dignity intact.

“So what  _ are _ you doing out here?” she questioned again, actually wanting an answer this time.

He didn’t disappoint, but he did successfully shine his phone flashlight in her eyes when he finally managed to pick it up, and she slapped a hand over her eyes as he mumbled out an “Oops.” When she was certain the flashlight was off, she released her face to see him again. “I um, lost something. Couldn’t find it anywhere else so I came to look for it out here.”

“So you decided to do it at night with a phone flashlight, why?”

“I’ve been looking for it all day. Got impatient.” The smile he gave her was sheepish. “Want to help me look?”

She looked at him for a moment, but she couldn’t think of anything better than having a scavenger hunt in the palace gardens late at night, so she simply pulled out her phone and switched on the flashlight. “What are we looking for?”

“Silver ring,” he said as he gestured to his middle finger and turned on his phone flashlight again. “Thanks.”

She set to work quickly but still kept fairly close. It was a nice distraction from certain subjects, at least. Some mind-numbing work for the soul. “So… how are things?” It had been a while since their time in the movie theater. She’d seen him, of course, because he was always sitting at the royals’ table at breakfast, but she hadn’t had any type of conversation since that night. That was typical of her, though. She never was very good at keeping friends. “That's the only thing I could think of to ask.”

“What, couldn’t think of anything specific?”

She walked around a bush and raised her voice enough for her to be heard as she continued her search. “I mean, I have specifics, but they're not exactly conversation starters, so I figured I'd start with some adult small talk.” There were many things about many people she wished to know here yet none of them seemed to be able to provide answers. Perhaps that was just how they did things in Angeles.

“Change it up,” Wylan told her through the bush before venturing through it, pushing numerous branches away from his face as he looked at her. “Dive into the deep stuff.”

She had to shine up her flashlight to actually see his face in the dark. If the palace needed to invest in anything in this garden, it was some more lights. “You’re going to get ticks.” She smiled. “Tell me your sensitive job information.”

“The amount of ridiculous advisors I deal with on a daily basis is astounding.”

She scoffed. “I didn't need to ask you to know you work with ridiculous people. I feel like that's a job requirement. After all, don't you work with Arin?” He seemed difficult already. She couldn’t imagine having to actually work with him, especially considering anything he said around here went, even his shitty political opinions. Whatever they were.

He sent her a scolding glare, but she could tell it was playful for the most part. “Enough words have been said about Arin lately that I don’t need to add to it.” She wasn’t entirely sure what she was talking about, but she had some semblance of an idea. Before she could comment, though, Wylan moved and was briskly smacked right in the face by a branch as he walked through the bush, causing him to stumble backward onto the ground.

She couldn’t help but burst out into laughter. It had been a while since that happened. “Oh my god, are you okay?”

On the ground, he brought a hand to his face, rubbing his fingers against his grimace and the visible red mark on his face. “Peachy.”

She stayed smiling but offered him out her hand in condolence. “How important is this ring, exactly? Is it worth abuse at nature's hand?”

“Family heirloom, one of the only ones. Quite important.” He took her hand, standing back up on his feet.

“We have to find it then. I'll stay with you all night until we do.” She turned away to continue her search. “Who did it belong to?”

“Grandfather. On my dad’s side.”

“Were you close with him?” she asked more as small talk than anything.

“Uh…” His tone changed from its usual easiness into something different, one she recognized but not from him. “When I was little. He passed and left it to me.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry.” The words sounded awkward coming from her mouth, but she meant them.

He gave her an appreciative smile. “I was six. Don’t remember much. But thank you.” He looked to her again. “When I said deep stuff you didn’t hesitate.”

Deep stuff. Her favorite subject about other people and least favorite about herself. “You should say deep stuff more often. Feels like you know a lot about me, but I know nothing about you.”

“Really?”

She met his gaze and the raised eyebrows he’d given her. “Am I wrong?”

“I don’t know. Kind of felt the same way about you.” He gave her a breathy chuckle as he paused his search of the ring to consider her.

And maybe she would regret this, but the way he looked at her made her feel like she had things she needed to tell him. “Fine, ask me a question. Anything you wanna know.”

His eyes stayed on her as he considered, distant but still present at the same time. After a moment, he spoke. “Why did you apply for the Selection? You don’t exactly strike me as the type to fall for the gimmick they had going on when it was announced.”

_ Gimmick. _ That was interesting. The way he said it made it feel like it was about something else, but she would file that away for later, instead going on to his question. “Someone told me I would make a bad queen.”  _ And he was right. _

“Determined to prove them wrong?”

Her lips pressed together to suppress her smile, albeit unsuccessfully. “Not exactly so. I can't really see myself becoming a queen or anything close.” Her original plan to go into politics like Ian suggested felt like a more and more distant mission the longer she was here. She didn’t mind the grueling paperwork or the coffee addiction associated with being a lawyer, but she wasn’t entirely sure venturing into politics without a purpose was for her, no matter how much Ian insisted. Something to live vicariously through probably, but she couldn’t give him the satisfaction now.

“Then what’s keeping you here?” he asked, though his voice wasn’t close to harsh, only intrigued by her answer.

“Haven’t been eliminated.” The words hung in the air. “Yet.”

His lips twitched into a smile. “I can’t tell if you’re excited or disappointed by that possibility.”

“Have you met Arin?” She almost pitied him for having to deal with the asshole, even if he was alright at the same time. “Can’t blame me for mixed feelings.”

“That seems to be the general consensus lately.” His words sounded tired, as if he’d spoken them multiple times before. From the continued talk she’d heard from other girls, she didn’t find it that hard to believe.

Still, it was hard to leave Wylan so defeated for his friend. “Hopefully you can cope with our engagement.”

His head snapped up from the ground to meet her coy smile. “Is that a joke?”

“Totally not. Our wedding is planned for Wednesday, and we're going to Fennley. Want to come?” She was still waiting for him to send his notice of cancellation whenever that would be. She was determined to win this game.

“The fact that that possibility doesn’t surprise me is concerning in and of itself.”

And the fact that that statement didn’t surprise her probably was too. She looked back down at the ground to continue her search. “Explain.”

“Arin’s been… erratic lately.”

It wasn’t much of an explanation, but she still understood in a way. Perhaps deep down he was different to whatever difficult persona he had, but she still didn’t appreciate it. “That sounds foreboding.” She glanced up at him with a smile. “Don't worry. No real marriage is planned. Don't tell him I said that though. I can't lose.”

He gave a short laugh and held up two fingers. “Intern’s honor.”

She looked back down to continue searching, but the smile remained on her face. “Are you gonna let me ask you a question now?”

“I don’t think I could stop you if I wanted to,” he said, though it was good-natured and, to be fair, it was also entirely correct.

“Good.” There were many things she could ask, so much she didn’t know about her new friend that she wished to yet one fact continued to nag at her mind. “What’s your last name?”

He paused for a second, obviously not expecting the question, but he recovered quickly with a laugh. “Caldwell. Wylan Caldwell.”

_ Wylan Caldwell. _ She hummed. “Caldwell. Where do I know that name from?”

His reply was automatic. “My dad played baseball and my mom is in the film industry.”

She shook her head. “No, it was…” The name was on the tip of her tongue, the result of yet another late-night insomnia-related Joogle search that led her down the rabbithole of information she definitely didn’t need to know. “Malcolm Caldwell! That’s it.”

“Who’s that?”

She was  _ so _ glad he asked because the amount of time she’d been sitting on information with no one to share it with was astounding. “He was a British Marxist writer who died mysteriously hours after meeting the Communist leader of Cambodia in the 1970s.” She put the flashlight under her chin like she was telling a ghost story. “His murder remains unsolved to this day.”

He took a second to process, blinking once before tilting his head. “Are murder mysteries your thing?”

_ Lawyers aren’t investigators, Jen. Focus on what you need to. _

A harmless pastime, but she’d listened to him like she’d listened to everything else he told her to do no matter what. “Not really anymore.”

“Why’s that?” he asked as he continued searching.

”I have other things to do. At least, I used to. Not so much now.” These days, she was just living and breathing as time ticked by, trying to find something to read. She had hoped to be knees-deep into an internship by this point in the summer, but that hadn’t panned out either. Maybe this was better than just being back home and dealing with her own problems head-on, being confronted with the fact that Ian would be in her life whether she liked it or not. The more she thought about it, the more she just couldn’t go home.

“It’s okay if they scared you. You can tell me.”

The coy smile on his face made her shine up her light for a second before dropping it. “I was  _ not _ scared. Take it back.”

He winced a bit at the light but didn’t back down. “Fear is nothing to be ashamed of, Jen.”

Realistically, she knew he was still talking about stories, but some part of her felt like he meant something else. A small goading for her to talk like they had in the movie theater. “Yeah, well, sometimes pretending not to be is what makes it easier.”

“Is being afraid such a terrible thing?”

_ The pounding of her heart in her chest the moment she walks into his office and the hollowness when she walks out. _

“Sometimes the lie is the only thing keeping yourself from falling apart.”

“I don’t know,” he mused, voice soft. “I think the truth has a funny way of putting us back together.”

She had yet to see it, but she also had yet to actually face it in the first place. “Sometimes the truth isn’t so kind.”

“It doesn’t have to be. Sometimes it’s all in how you handle the truth.” She could tell his gaze was on her, even if it was the last thing she wanted.

“And if I don’t handle it well?”

He took a few steps toward her, closing the distance between them. “Then that just makes you human.” He reached up and tugged again at the string of her hoodie, giving her a small smile.

Her hand went to his almost instantaneously before dropping like she’d been burned. “Sorry,” she whispered, though she wasn’t really sure why. It had been a while since she’d really touched some, she realized.

Arin’s hand. He’d pulled from her grip. She’d bit back the sting of rejection for annoyance instead.

A line formed between Wylan’s brows as he looked down at her. So tall. “Why are you sorry?”

She averted her eyes from his, hoping they hadn’t given her away already. “I—Nothing.” She almost apologized again but caught herself. This wasn’t a regular occurrence. Her apologies were usually hard to come by, but at some points they just started spilling out.

With Ian, it was usually to make him stay.

“You can tell me, Jen.” But could she? So many things happened. So many things she hated thinking about. Memories locked away. She just wished she hadn’t gotten herself into the mess in the first place.

In front of her, Wylan pretended to zip his mouth again the same way he did in the movie theater. She smiled. “Some secrets are better left to yourself.”

He hummed as he looked away for a moment before bringing his gaze back to her. “A secret for a secret?”

No man ever seemed to be able to disclose anything to her, all pent-up in one way or another. She appreciated the openness, even if she still wasn’t sure. “Alright. But make it good.”

He considered for a moment, an array of movements ghosting over his face before he finally settled on just looking slightly away from her. “My last relationship. Jo. Well, Josephine, but she went by Jo. She, uh…” He paused, his eyebrows knit. She didn’t like where this was going. “She cheated on me.”  _ Oh God. _ “It’s not even a huge secret, but I—I never was able to get over it. Not after everything.”

_ Georgia’s arms around her. So forgiving when she had no idea what kind of person she was holding. A woman who acts like her mother when her actual mother doesn’t show up for her college graduation because she can’t face her father for a few hours. _

Wylan reminded her of Georgia. Their hearts were the same, too big and too trusting, and just through the look in Wylan’s eye, she could already see Georgia’s reaction to finding out the girl she viewed as a second daughter betrayed her the way she did. Slept with her husband. Slept with him so many times and didn’t think of her when she did it.

She never wanted to hurt her. She never wanted to hurt Wylan.

“Jen.”

She reached up to her face, and her fingers came off wet. She hadn’t even realized she’d started crying.

His hand settled in a loose grip on her arm. “What… What’s wrong?”

She shook her head, tilting her face away so that he couldn’t see much more of it. She couldn’t hurt him anymore. “I need to go. I’m sorry.”

“Wait,” he said, stopping her. “I-I’m sorry if it was something I said. If I shouldn’t have shared that.”

She almost broke down again from the way he tried apologizing only because she hated that she hurt him even more already. She was really fucking good at this, wasn’t she? She took a step back, slipping out of his grip. “You didn't do anything wrong, Wylan. It's…” She stopped. How much could she even tell him? “I'm not the kind of person you want to be friends with.”

“I don’t get to decide that for myself?”

She kept her gaze on the ground as she wiped her face before looking at him again. “You're not going to want me if you knew.” Because no one wanted her even if they didn’t know. Ian was the only one who stayed when he didn’t have to. “You shouldn't get hurt any more than you have if I can help it.”

“And what about how I can help you, Jen?”  _ Help her. _ No one had ever offered that. When she started failing essays this semester for the first time with professors that knew she wasn’t one who ever let herself fall behind. When she’d had a breakdown in the library again at Yale in January and no one batted an eye. She always figured she’d put herself in these situations, so she had to get herself out of them too. “You don’t have to be alone in this,” he told her. “Wanting you or not is a question I already have answered.”

He wanted her. At least, she thought he did. Someone else who actually cared, someone who didn’t want her to be alone. She stared at him, and he stared back, and he really actually seemed to mean it. He just wanted to understand. “If you knew, you wouldn’t feel that way.”

“Try me.”

And it might’ve been a mistake. The biggest mistake of her life, maybe. But she took one more look at him before saying, “Sit down.”

_ Fuck. _ This wasn’t supposed to happen. This secret was supposed to go to her grave. No one was ever supposed to know about the decisions she made to get her there. Wylan was here now, though, sinking to the ground like she’d asked him to. They were already halfway there.

She walked around him as he turned off his flashlight, also sinking down where their back faced each other. He couldn’t see her when she told him, and she couldn’t see him realize how disgusting she actually was. Encased in darkness, she would break the silence for the first time. “I was the other woman in my relationship.”

He didn’t speak for a moment. She hadn’t expected him to. “The fourth guy?” His voice was soft. She appreciated that.

“Yes.” Her voice cracked a little at the end, and she sniffled before continuing. “The last.” But she prayed he wouldn’t remain so.

She almost wished she could see his face now, know at least a little of how he felt, or how much he hated her. It would’ve been a small mercy. “When did it end?”

When did it? She wasn’t completely sure. She knew she would’ve gone back eventually the first time if she hadn’t gotten selected, but once she did, once he threatened her and did what he did, she knew she couldn’t go back. I ended things right before the Selection started, but the last time we were together was—”

_ “I’m sorry,” he whispers when he tries to ruin everything. He never liked to apologize, and in that moment everything almost felt like it would be okay. _

“—the night before I left.” So recent. They would be approaching six months of being together by now, though she couldn’t say it was something to celebrate.

“Do you still want him?”

She had… never really thought about it like that. Some days were better than others, the days where he would only be fleeting thoughts against the other voices blaring in the background. Other days, he was every point of her consciousness. She could feel him in her chest, hollow, empty. Still, she couldn’t deny the feeling in the mornings when she would wake up and think for a moment that he was there and go through joy, anger, and misery all at the same time. Those days she could barely get out of bed. “Some part of me still misses him. We've been through a lot together.” 

The way he would touch her when he was pleased, tell her she was good, tell her she was everything to him.

“Most of me just…”  _ Don’t disappoint me, Jennie.  _ “Wants him gone.”

“Who is he, Jen?” Wylan seemed to be done with her games, but she wasn’t kidding when she said there were some secrets she would die with. His name was one of them.

She needed to give him something, though. Some kind of truth she’d been keeping. She pressed her back into his. “Someone who could ruin my life if he wanted to.” She could see everyone she loved gone. They could kick a single law student out of Yale. She would have nothing then. She still had nothing.

She could feel him shift slightly, turning just a bit in an attempt to look at her. “And would he? Want to?”

“He already tried.” The words slipped out before she could stop them, but it was true, wasn’t it? He did something unspeakable that would sentence her to a life no one would wish upon their worst enemy. 

“What?” His tone was sharper than she’d ever heard it. She retracted in on herself. “How?”

“He…” She didn’t have to tell him. She could’ve made up something just as easily, but if she’d already told him this much, how much more was there to lose? “He tried to get me pregnant.” The first time the words had ever come from her mouth. They still felt terrifying.

She felt him turn around completely, felt his gaze on her back as he could finally see her. “Who is he, Jen?” She hadn’t meant to make him angry.

She also turned, still clutching her knees to her chest. If not anything else, he didn’t hate her, and that was something. That was the most she could’ve hoped for. “Please, don't, Wylan. I'd rather just forget.”

“I’m not going to-to look him up.” He huffed out a breath. “Or find him. But a man like that… needs to stay far away from you.”

She didn’t like being protected, but just this once, she would allow it. She finally felt some semblance of safety under Wylan’s watch. “Don't worry about it. He's not dangerous. We both just need time, and he hasn't bothered me since I came here.” She looked up at him, panic in her eyes. “You can't tell anyone what I just told you, Wylan.” If anyone else knew… She couldn’t even consider the possibility. 

He nodded immediately at that. “I won’t. I just…”

She gave him a smile before scooting to sit next to him and pressing her shoulder into his. So close, but he didn’t pull away. “You’ve done enough just listening.” She looked to him then, his face softer than it was before. Not angry at her. “That's the first time I've ever told anyone in my life.” The first time she’d ever even considered it. “I told myself I would bring that secret to the grave. There are certain things about it I will.”

“I’m, uh, I’m glad you told me.” The smile he gave her was one she never wanted to leave. “It’s safe with me.”

He was supposed to be mad at her. He was supposed to hate her. He was supposed to leave. But he didn’t. “Thank you.”  _ For everything. _ “And I feel like I should also mention I'm really sorry. About what she did to you. If anyone doesn't deserve that, it's you.”

“You didn’t deserve that either, Jen. But thank you.” Didn’t she? Every day she felt like it was some kind of punishment, like something she’d earned, but the way Wylan looked at her made her feel like that wasn’t true. Before she could react, his arm reached around her and pressed into her shoulders, not doing anything but holding her. It had been so long since she’d been held by someone.

It was easy to relax into the touch, her brain finally understanding it as something good. Without really thinking, she scooted into his side even further, keeping her tucked more into the crook of his arm.  _ Safe _ . 

And she didn’t speak, only rested her head back against his shoulder to look up at the stars lighting their way through the darkness until the silence became too much. “Tell me something.”  _ Make me think about something other than him. _

“Tell you what?” He was looking up too. Content almost.

“Something about you. Anything. I don’t care.”

“I was afraid of the dark until I was seven,” he said, a small smile on his lips.

“I still sleep with the light on,” she replied. 

He looked down to her. “Really?”

She hummed her affirmation. It was easier to not get where she was mixed up. She’d had that problem a few times. “What's your most irrational fear?”

“Dying in the dark,” he said, though his voice was filled with amusement. “Not quite as irrational though.”

“Dying during the daytime is better?”

“At least I’d be able to see what’s going on.”

She sent him an incredulous look. “God, what’s wrong with you?”

“I only wish I knew.”

She huffed a laugh. “It's okay. I think we've both got some issues to deal with.” He still really had no idea. Maybe a good amount now, but not anywhere near close to what was needed.

His eyes were on her. She could feel them. “How you doing?”

She could tell he didn’t just mean how she was feeling after what she’d told him, but her answer would’ve been the same either way. “Could be better, but I’ve been worse.” So much worse. Days she wouldn’t relive for all the money in the world. “You?”

“Peachy.” He gave her another small smile before letting her go. She missed it almost immediately, but she watched as he shifted backward and laid down onto the grass. She almost commented on the number of bugs he could get on him, but he looked so content that she kept her mouth shut just this once, simply scooting back to also join him. She doubted she was supposed to be doing this with someone who wasn’t the man she was supposed to be after, but until Arin held her after crying her eyes out, she didn’t care. “If you could be anywhere right now, where would you want to be?”

“The beach. Summer before sophomore year of college.” He smiled up at the stars. “Good couple of months. You?”

There were few situations similar that she could think of. The only thing she really loved was Yale. Yale, the school she fought for and could never go back to. Every time she looked at her diploma now, she would only see the name and everything that happened there instead of the actual achievement she’d received. Still, she had more than four good years at that school. It would’ve been a shame to have let four months ruin her love of everything. “It might sound lame, but I'd be in a mock trial session. I miss the rush.”

He gave her a short laugh. “That’s a unique answer if I’ve ever heard one.”

“What can I say? Your happy place may be the beach, but mine's the courtroom. It's never done me wrong.” Even the pinch of heels was worth every second she was able to dress up and talk like a lawyer.

“Neither has the beach.”

“The beach has done  _ plenty. _ ” She could list off every natural disaster caused by the beach, but she wouldn’t have enough time before dawn. It was absolutely atrocious.

“To you?” 

Okay, not exactly what she meant, but she could work with it. “When I was four, it took my favorite pair of sunglasses. Haven’t been to the beach since.”

“Jen.” His voice was outraged, but not in a way that made her nervous, more playful than anything. “Are you serious?”

“Very.” She raised an arm above them, a little dark with the lack of light. “Why do you think I’m so pale?”

“Too much time in the library.”

She dropped her hand to pinch his side, grinning when he shrank from her touch with a laugh. “Sorry if I want to pass law school. You may not speak of my time spent in the library. It's all productive.” Aside from the numerous hours spent feeling sorry for herself.

“One day a week in the sun might actually help you get through law school. Word of advice.”

She wrinkled her nose at the thought. Her skin burned so easily, and the heat was never so kind to her. She always leaned colder than she probably ought to. “I'll pass, thanks. Even my study abroad in Greece, I exclusively stayed in museums.”

“Greece, huh? How long were you there?”

“The summer before Sophomore Year of college.” She glanced at him, smiling. “Guess we both had a good time that summer. You know, on different continents.”

He laughed. “19 proved to be good.” On the ground, he crossed his ankles, linking his arms over his torso as they continued staring up.

She hummed. “It was.” She’d had friends then, people she’d lost touch with after they left school and she inevitably stayed. She was still fond of the memories, though, of staying up until all night and then picking up cheap coffees to take to their 8ams. “23, maybe not so much, but at least it's almost over.”

“Birthday soon?”

Almost. So close to getting the worst year of her life over with. “July 18th. You?”

He gave her a grin. “July 10th.”

“Guess we're twins. Or twin Cancers, I guess. I'll put the date on my calendar. Maybe we can watch another Star Wars movie at an ungodly hour.” She glanced at him. “Unless you have other plans.”

Their eyes met then, and he was grinning, and that was reassurance enough. “None so far. Maybe halfway between the days? Double birthday movie.”

“Alright, you're on. I'm thinking  _ Attack of the Clones, _ also known as the best one.” Knowing that would get the best of him, she returned her eyes to the sky, pressing her lips together to resist smiling too wide.

“You think  _ Attack of the Clones _ is the best one?”  _ Got him. _

She scoffed at the sheer accusation. “Of course not. No one thinks Attack of the Clones is the best one. It's obviously  _ Revenge of the Sith. _ ”

“The best ones of the prequels maybe.”  _ Wrong opinions. _ “I would’ve had to rescind any offer of friendship if you thought  _ Attack of the Clones _ was good.”

“It wasn't  _ good, _ but it wasn't unwatchable. That goes to the Phantom Menace, and if you disagree, then my friendship toward you is also rescinded.”

“Can’t argue with that one. Terrible.”

She settled into the grass, satisfied that she’d won the argument, even if it was about  _ Star Wars _ of all things. She would take it. After a few minutes of undisturbed silence, she decided that wasn’t the only thing she would be taking. “ _ Revenge of the Sith  _ is still the best one.”

He gave this laugh that was far too loud for the hour as he lightly shoved her arm. “I don’t know how you can say that when  _ The Empire Strikes Back _ exists?”

She sat up on her elbow with her eyes narrowed, ready to absolutely destroy this man. “Empire Strikes Back is a contender for objectively one of the best films of the 1980s period, but Revenge of the Sith, despite its numerous flaws, errors, and design choices, encompasses exactly what a Star Wars movie is supposed to be. Not poetic cinema, but a film about story first and foremost, and Revenge of the Sith gives one of the most perfectly fulfilled story arcs with the tragedy of Anakin Skywalker.”

The silence stretched on, only accompanied by a singular blink as he considered her words. Instantly, she knew she got him. “Do you have a secret blog where you review  _ Star Wars _ movies?”

She would really rather not talk about the middle school phase she’d gone through that luckily did not include any regrettable  _ Star Wars _ blogs, so she just laughed. “ I did a film studies class and had to do a breakdown of a culturally influential film of my choice. You can guess what I chose. No blog needed.”

“I don’t think your opinion leaves much room for argument then.” 

She tapped her foot against his leg, eyebrows raised in challenge. “That’s because I’m  _ right. _ Checkmate.”

The glint in his eye matched hers. “Since when was this a game of whether or not who’s right?”

“Bold of you to assume this wasn't always a challenge about who's right.”

A smirk lined his lips as he nudged her leg back as well. “You being right might not last for long.”

“Oh, how so?”

He leaned closer, still smirking as he lowered his voice into a whisper like he was about to spill some big secret. “Because I got all A’s in my debate classes.”

The confession made her pause because of how ridiculous it was, and it only took a few seconds for her to burst out into her laughter. She’d almost completely forgotten the dried tears on her cheeks and the few terrible minutes she’d been subjected to. Suddenly, everything felt like it would be okay. “Yeah, I'm sure you're an expert at debate. You ever gone up against Arin?” That was still on her bucket list. She would almost be disappointed if she left without ever having done it. 

His smirk returned. “A few times. Not too often.”

“Won all except a couple. He knows his way around political topics.”  _ Good because so do I. _ “I can imagine courtrooms will be quaking with your presence soon enough.”

That got a smile out of her because, God, she missed talking about it. The thing she’d been working toward since high school, and it was so close to her reach now. “Another year to go. Maybe longer depending on how this goes. I'm just hoping this wasn't a waste of time.”

“‘This’ meaning the Selection?”

She shrugged. “Mostly. I guess it could be touted as an experience, which it definitely has been, but still.”

He hummed his acknowledgment. “Then again, you could learn things here you might’ve not had the chance to otherwise.”

_ I think I already may have. _ “I guess that’s one of them.” She looked at him again. “What's something you've learned by coming here?”

“Everyone has secrets,” he answered, not hesitating in his reply.

She couldn’t disagree. The further you got into the political sphere, the more secrets were kept. Some of them, herself included, just had more secrets than others. “Do secrets ever really stay secrets?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I wish some would. Others not.”

She hoped she felt like that one day, but for now she would remain under constant lock and key. Maybe it wouldn’t always have to be this way. “I don't think that can happen for me after everything.” She said it without really thinking, but it struck her chest the moment it came out. Not uncomfortably so, but it still had that underlying sadness she’d been so desperately pushing away.

“I think it’s more attainable than you might think.”

She gave him the smallest smile for the attempt, but it gave little reassurance. “It was worse than just cheating, Wylan, though I'm still not sure about your acceptance of it in the first place.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m accepting of cheating,” he clarified. She supposed that was fair. “But I do think people deserve some form of second chances. If not from other people, then from themselves.”

_ From themselves. _ This whole time she had been blaming herself for everything, every little mistake. She couldn’t deny that she’d made a lot of them, but it would be nice to not hate herself every second for them. Still, every time she thought about it, she thought of Georgia and the way not even God would forgive her. “What if I don't want to give myself a second chance?”

Their eyes met then. She resisted the urge to tear hers away. “Why wouldn’t you want that?”

_ I do want it. _ “Maybe I don't feel like I deserve one.”

His expression cleared. He looked back up. “I guess... that’s something only you can decide.”

Her to decide whether she deserved it or to actually give it to herself? She supposed it was both, each requiring a different method she needed to utilize. It would take a long time and a whole lot of fucking soul-searching, but… “I hope I can get there. Someday.”

“Me too.” 

She didn’t respond to him, just kept staring up until he shifted to sit up, and she followed him, pulling out her phone to see the time. “I didn’t realize it was so late.”

“Neither did I,” he said as he stood before offering out his hand to her. She accepted it graciously and looked down at her—well,  _ his _ —hoodie.  _ Angeles University. _ Maybe not that bad. “Thanks. You know, for everything.”  _ For not hating me. For not turning your back on me like everyone else. _

She had expected a serious response, but she realized she probably shouldn’t have as he gave her the most dramatic bow she could’ve ever dreamed up. “My pleasure, Lady Jen.”

“I expect to see you on the 14th to watch  _ Revenge of the Sith, _ ” she said as she took a step back onto the path they’d been on before venturing off. She really was looking forward to it, Anakin dramatics and all.

Wylan gave her a two-fingered salute as she went, still smiling. “Try not to be late.”

“I won’t,” she assured and finally turned all the way around, feeling heavier and lighter at the same time. At least tonight she didn’t cry herself to sleep. God knew she’d been doing plenty of that lately. 

It didn’t take many steps before something glinted on the path out of the corner of her eye, and she stopped to investigate the disturbance. A silver ring laid out perfectly on the edge of the path. She had said she would stay with him until they found it, so she guessed this was her keeping her promise. “Hey, Wyatt?”

He looked up at her from his phone as she began closing the distance again, ring cradled in her hand. “Yes?”

“Is this yours?” She stopped in front of him and held her out for him, watching as his expression turned into a grin.

“What would I do without a Jenna?” he asked as he took the ring, slipping it back into its place on his middle finger.

She dropped her hand as she took another step back, ready to actually head back this time. No more excuses. “Have one less of a ring and maybe a much quieter night.” If there was anything Jen was good at, it was causing disturbances apparently.

He chuckled as their eyes met. “Probably.”

“Sleep well,” she called out to him as she began walking back. “If you ever get there.”

He didn’t respond, but he didn’t have to. She headed back to the palace with a smile on her face and much lighter shoulders than she had when she came out. Still not good, but maybe she was getting there.

That night, she added Wylan’s birthday to her calendar too. 

**Author's Note:**

> TW: There are flashbacks to sexual assault (not rape) in this, and it will be seen in more detail in later fics. Ian is a bad person. Jen has a fucked-up mindset right now that will slowly get better. Be safe, y'all.


End file.
